Rage of Fire
by Half an Inch
Summary: Upon arriving at his home, he immediately opened the file. It contained only one leaf of paper. That paper contained three words: Kill Alex Rider.
1. Chapter 1

**Rage of Fire**

**By Half an Inch**

**Chapter 1**

* * *

A black-haired, twenty five year-old man walked briskly down the sidewalk, all while pulling his wool overcoat tighter around his slim form.

To the causal observer, he looked like a normal pedestrian making his way home after a long and cold winter day.

However, this man was anything but normal.

If asked, he would claim that he hadn't killed the young man laying in an alley near Cuerdan street.

He would say he had been visiting a professor who taught in the University of Liverpool. If someone was to take a closer look at this professors background, they would have found out that he didn't exist.

But the problem was that no one had even thought to ask the young man. To the world, he was another ordinary face in a crowd of millions.

To the underworld, however, he was the most experienced and feared bounty hunter to have ever been hired.

Rumors had flown, claiming that this mysterious man had once worked for MISO. After two years, he had rose to claim the title of top agent. Always the best. Always on task.

He was the perfect agent. Loyal, lethal, and charming.

Then, he had been exposed to the cruelty of the government.

He would often compare it to a gargoyle.

Ugly, monstrous, and hideous.

Now, the man battled the ongoing snow storm just because he had a meeting with a client in five minutes.

This was a usual occurrence, considering he was always being called to do the difficult jobs others had failed to complete.

He was supposed to meet him at a restaurant. The name: Fleur dé Falafel.

It was a French/Arab restaurant. He could've cared less, but his training had forced him to remember things. Even if they weren't the least bit important.

Moments later, the food joint loomed into view. The man reached up, brushed the snow from atop his head, and walked in like he owned the place.

A waiter offered to direct him to a table, but he waved the waiter away. "Thank you, but I'm in no need of assistance." He said coldly.

The shell-shocked waiter just nodded mutely and went back to her post at the front door.

Experienced eyes raked his surroundings for any sign of a sniper or eavesdropping spies. After making sure that all threats were eliminated, he walked over to a table in a secluded area near the end of the restaurant.

He sat down without any invitation. A plate had already been placed in front of him. His clients often bought him dinner as an extra token of gratitude, even though he rarely, if ever, touched the food.

"Hello, Mr. Felix, if that even is your name. How are you?" The man, Hamilton, said warmly from his side of the table.

'Felix' waved to a waiter and ordered a glass of water. He wasn't going to drink. He was on duty after all.

"I'm fine. Thank you for asking. How are you?" He responded in a Liverpudlian accent. 'Felix' was supposedly from Liverpool, after all.

Hamilton's cheery demeanor slid off his face, the weight of it causing his mouth to turn downward into a frown.

"Quite the contrary, actually. Someone's been bothering me."

'Felix' raised an eyebrow and pretended to act interested. He was a very good actor. "May I ask who?"

Hamilton sighed. "I'm afraid I can't disclose such information in a public place. People these days are so unpredictable. Don't know who to trust anymore."

'Felix' removed the hand that had been resting on top his handgun. Patience, he told himself. Don't shoot the old man no matter how annoying they are.

"Oh?"

Hamilton slid a folder over the table. Felix reached out with a slender hand and grabbed the folder.

He recognized the dismissal and stood up, pocketing the file in his coat. Hamilton looked upset that had had just wasted over fifty dollars on food that hadn't even been touched.

Felix smirked at the mans expression, and walked out the door, into the biting cold outside.

Upon arriving at his home, he immediately opened the file.

It contained only one leaf of paper. That paper contained three words:

_Kill Alex Rider_.


	2. Chapter 2

**Rage of Fire**

**Chapter 2**

**Half an Inch**

* * *

Ben Daniels took a double take when he saw the familiar name stare up at him from the leaf of paper.

His first though was that he couldn't do it. His second thought was: _What the hell?_

Alex Rider was always getting himself in trouble. Ben knew that for a fact. But the fact that _Hamilton_ of all people, hired _him_, worried Ben. He shook his head. He would just tell then man that he wouldn't do it. He had enough money.

As he closed the file, a sharp knock assaulted the door. Ben whipped out his pistol and held it at the ready. Cautiously, he opened the door.

The man that was behind it was tall and muscular. He looked young, around his mid-twenties. "Benjamin Daniels?" He asked in a smooth voice.

Ben looked at the man warily. "Yes?"

"I've received intel that you have been hired to assassinate one Alex Rider. I've came to make you a deal."

Ben raised an eyebrow and opened the door wider for the man to come in.

He did, stepping in, and his eyes darting, taking everything in at a moments glance.

Ben noticed. "Who are you?"

The man turned around to look Ben in the eyes. "Scorpia sent me. Instead of killing him, they want you to kidnap Alex Rider and bring him to us. We will pay you six times more than the original destined price."

That he could do. Ben whistled appreciatively. "You have yourself a deal. How do I contact you?"

The man turned around to leave the hotel room. "You don't contact us. We contact you. Don't expect to hear from us until the mission is accomplished."

With that, the man left.

Ben turned around. His gaze fell on the file laying open on the table. He closed the top and threw it in the raging fire in the fireplace, watching in grim satisfaction as the file was reduced to a pile of ash.

* * *

Alex gasped as he was shoved once _again_ into the rough, brick wall. He winced as it tore his already bruised skin.

He was pulled up roughly by brutal, calloused hands. He was manhandled from the underground tunnel and pushed into someone's open arms.

Alex was wrestled into what felt like a car and the blindfold was pulled from his eyes. A man, around the age of twenty five filled his vision.

"Is this him?" He asked someone that Alex couldn't see. A rough, jagged voice answered with something that was indistinguishable. The nodded as if satisfied and took out his pistol.

Alex's eyes widened as his intentions were made clear. "Hey, wait.." He began to protest but was cut off as the man pistol-whipped the seventeen year old. He grunted and turned to the driver.

"London Town Hotel, if you wouldn't mind."

The driver nodded and shoved his keys in the ignition.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

**Rage of Fire**

**By Half an Inch**

* * *

Getting the kid into the hotel was a problem. Smith had go through the back door to get in without anyone see him lugging a seventeen year old unconscious teenager.

A messenger had already went on ahead and got him a room and he had already gotten the keys from one of his many contacts.

Smith cursed puberty as he allowed the teen to lean on him. Rider moaned painfully as Smiths shoulder dug into the wound on his head.

Smith didn't know why his boss wanted a kid of all people, but whatever the reason, Smith wouldn't- or rather, _couldn't_\- question orders.

He rolled his eyes as he slid the card into the door and pushed it open. The room was dark, but he didn't bother turning on the light. He heard this kid was dangerous, thus wasting no time on binding his hands and feet with rough, coarse, rope.

The teen groaned from where Smith had tied him to the bedpost. Cracked rib, he mused. He was startled out of his thoughts as a smooth, emotionless voice said from the darkness,

"I'll take him now."

Smiths eyes narrowed. "Who are you? I was supposed to meet you at the dock."

The man detached himself from the shadows, and before Smith knew it, he had plunged a needle in his arm.

"There's been a change in plans."

As the man slumped unconscious, Ben walked towards the teen calmly. Alex groaned. "I'll get you out of here soon enough." He mumbled as he went to untie the kid from the bed.

Alex's eyes fluttered and he coughed. "Ben?"

Ben looked around. Then, he turned back to the spy. "Umm.. You're just hallucinating. We'll get you to the hospital, and then you can see Ben."

The teen just nodded fuzzily, though he still had a sliver of suspicion in his eyes, and fell back into unconsciousness.

When Ben had him untied, he slung his hand underneath the boys underarm, and pulled him up.

With him leaning heavily on Ben, they made slow progress down to the lobby.

It took some skill, getting the boy out without getting noticed, but Ben, being the assassin he was, managed. He knew that as soon as Alex snapped into it, he would recognize him.

True to his beliefs, before he could Alex into his car, the teen groaned. His eyes flashed dangerously as realized to a full extent who Ben was.

"_You_." He spat. Alex struggled to get out is his grip, but Ben squeezed his arm hard enough to bruise. "Stop struggling or I'm gonna have to tranq you." He warned Alex.

This did nothing in stopping the struggling boys attempts. MI6 had warned him of Ben. He had full knowledge that his partner had turned to the dark side, becoming a well known freelance assassin in the underworld.

They were interrupted by a shout on the south side of the garage. Smith. And he had brought back-up, Ben observed. Smith was leading, with three men following behind. All of them had their guns raised, leveled at Ben.

"Put. The boy. _Down_." Smith ordered, gesturing to the ground with his gun.

Ben raised his hands over his head, but not before pushing Alex aside. The blonde teenager yelped as he was slammed into a red Camry.

One of Smiths men eyed the boy warily, and inched his way slowly towards him. Ben watched him from the corner of his eye, helpless to do anything as Alex painfully straightened up and glared at him through his bangs.

The man lowered his gun slightly and reached towards him. That's when Ben made his move.

Faster than they could react, he had whipped out a gun and pulled the trigger.

Five shots echoed through the car garage.

Four bodies slumped to the floor, dead, neat holes in each of their foreheads. One body fell, severely injured. Someone groaned from behind Ben and he discovered exactly who took the last bullet.

Alex.

As if his state of health wasn't bad enough, they had to go and get the poor kid shot above it all. Ben felt no sympathy for the kid, but he supposed Scorpia didn't take well to failed assignments.

All the same, he crouched down to the ground. When Scorpia had ordered him to bring Alex Rider in, he had assumed it meant alive.

Experienced fingers ghosted above the wound. From what Ben could tell, the bullet had lodged itself into Alex's abdomen. It hadn't pierced any of the major arteries, but it had done a lot of damage. Alex could die if he didn't get medical attention soon.

The bullet had ricocheted off the ribs, collapsing a lung and hitting his pancreas. It would heal over time on its own, but he needed surgery to repair his lung and remove the bullet.

By the size of the entry spot, it was a .45 caliber, while the type of gun remained unknown.

By Alex being mortally injured, it complicated things tenfold. They would have to stop at a safe house to stitch him up, then bring him to Venice, where he would deposit Alex into Scorpia's 'caring' hands.

Ben swore as he heard the loud, painfully familiar, sound of an ambulance. He quickly managed to get the younger man into his car, and pull out of the garage.

While breaking a lot of driving laws, Ben continuously found himself studying Alex. His face was pale and clammy, and a thin sheen of perspiration gluing his shaggy hair to his forehead.

Ben was surprised, even though he knew he shouldn't be, to see a slight stubble on his well-defined jaw.

He was a young man after all. Alex groaned, reminding Ben that he had to get the teen someplace fast. Ben just decided that the designated safe house near Wallasey was way too far.

Normally, sixteen minutes wouldn't have been a big deal, but with Alex's life on the line, they just simply did not have the time.

Ben pulled up into the driveway of a house that had newspapers piling up outside. The owners must be on vacation, he mused, as he pulled Alex out of the car.

He broke into the house, an old, rickety, Victorian, by picking the lock. The interior was dusty and looked abandoned. Ben navigated his way towards what he assumed was the dining room.

He gently placed Alex on the large, rectangular table that looked like it could seat eight people.

Ben stretched out his hand, fingers searching the darkness for a light switch.

His hand hit the wall. He slowly made his way around the room, following the wall, until his fingers hit a metal switch.

He flicked it on. Light gushed from a chandelier above the table. For the first time, Ben could see the full extent of the boys injury.

He thought about taking him to a hospital, but immediately dispelled the thought. The last thing he needed was the media knocking on his door demanding to know how in the world a teenager got shot.

Besides, MI6 would know if their spy was in the hospital. Ben would be gunned down before he even thought about escape routes.

Alex needed help. And he needed it now.

* * *

"_Ben_?"

Ben mentally cheered as the faintly accented speech of his friend came over the line.

"Snake," he sighed in relief. "Listen, I need your help. Now."

Ben could hear the frown in the Scottish medics voice as Ben laid out his request. Snake knew that almost the only time someone from his old unit called him, it was because they needed medical help.

"_Where are you_?" He asked instead.

Ben walked out, reciting the address as read it. He hadn't payed much attention to it while driving in, due to his hasty manner.

"Bring your surgical instruments." Ben told him before Snake could hang up. Snake nodded, despite knowing Fox couldn't see him and fled out the door, grabbing his first-aid kit on the way out.

He quite literally jumped into his car and drove full speed down to the street Ben had mentioned. The house he was in looked haunted, if Snake said so himself. The only sign of inhabitance was the shiny-looking Lexus, and the light that was on in what he presumed was either the dining or living room.

He walked up to the ivy-covered entrance and hesitantly rung the doorbell. A couple seconds later, the door was opened by none other, than his former unit member, Ben Daniels.

His hands were bloody. Snake frowned. "Ben... What?..."

Ben opened the door farther, inviting him into 'his' house. Snake came in and rounded on his friend the moment he found his voice. "Ben. You left for almost _three years _without leaving us a clue as to where you were, and then, out of the blue, you call me? And with surgical items, I may add..."

His friend sighed. "Look. I'll explain everything. I promise. Just... We need to hurry."

Snake followed him as Ben led him down a hallway and into a dining room.

The source of the light. His eyes fell on the boy on the table, and he cursed. "Jesus... Ben. What happened?"

Ben shifted, trying to show his impatience. "Like I said, I'll explain. Just please... Help him."

Snake nodded and made his way towards him, even though his disapproval shined through his eyes.

"_Cub_?"

He hadn't seen the kid in almost three years, and he had changed drastically. Despite that, he was able to immediately recognize his unorthodox fifth member. He was tempted to pin Ben to the ground and demand why _exactly_ there was a boy with a bullet wound, unconscious, on his dining room table, but he held back.

For once, his unit mate was right. Cub needed help as soon as possible.

* * *

The grueling surgery took around seven hours, though Snake really hadn't payed attention through his extreme worry for Cub.

Through the surgery, he had stayed out cold, due to the IV Snake had hooked up in his arm. Ben had stayed silent through out the whole ordeal, arms crossed, and one leg bended on the wall.

Snake waited until he knew the kid wasn't in immediate risk of dying, until he pulled off his surgical gloves and glared at Ben.

"Explain. _Now_." As Ben opened his mouth, the medic shook his head. "First, tell me why you didn't take him to a hospital. If you wouldn't have called me when you did, he wouldn't have made it."

Ben looked warily at the Scottish man. "We both aren't really at the best of terms with MI6." He said.

"_MI6_?! So that's were you've been."

Ben started to speak, but he cut him off angrily. "Wait. Stop. We _both_?! Cubs Special Operations?"

"Look," Ben put a hand on his shoulder. "Jake. I'll explain. I swear-"

Jake shook his hand off and strode into the hallway. "I'm calling Wolf." He said, while pulling out his mobile.

Ben did the only thing he could.

He punched Jake in the face.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

**Rage of Fire**

**By Half an Inch**

* * *

'-_Ben did the only thing he could. He punched Jake in the face.'_

* * *

"Listen carefully when I tell you not to call anyone." Ben growled in his face. Snake snarled and pushed his former teammate off of him.

"There's a kid," he hissed, as he clambered to his feet, "passed out, on your dining room table. I think I deserve to know why."

Ben glared at his friend, balancing on the balls of his feet, ready to strike. "Would you have preferred if I left him to die?"

Jake shook his head, though he still looked furious. "Maybe you should explain how he got shot in the first place."

Ben sighed. He couldn't tell Jake that he was a world renowned assassin sent to kidnap a sixteen year old kid.

"We were on a mission." He ended up saying.

Jake opened his mouth to say something, but the shrill sound of his friends phone ringing interrupted him.

Ben sent a wary look towards him and answered his phone, walking out the room. He knew Jake wouldn't bolt. Having spent two years with him, he knew that he was too kind to leave Alex here.

"Daniels."

"Где вы были?" _Where the hell were you?_

Ben sighed and checked the caller I.D. Unknown. Figures.

"там были некоторые осложнения."_ There have been some complications._

"объяснять." _Explain_, the man demanded.

"Существует неизвестной третьей стороны. SAS солдат." _There is an unknown third party. An SAS soldier._

The voice on the other side sighed irritably. Ben could imagine him pinching the bridge of his nose.

"я не могу справиться с этим сейчас; Принесите ему тоже." _I can't deal with this right now; Bring him too._

Ben was going to say something but the Scorpia agent on the other line hung up.

He shook his head in anger and walked back into the living room.

* * *

Jake watched as Ben left the room, talking rapidly in Russian. He himself was rubbish at said language, resulting in him being the only one in the unit taking the Russian course at Brecon Beacons.

He tried hard to translate the conversation but his efforts were in vain. When he said 'rubbish', he meant rubbish.

Realizing that the phone call would take longer than expected, Jake decided to take advantage of that time. Fingering his cellphone, he debated weather he should go against his friends orders and call Wolf or not.

He decided to call him.

Jake unlocked his phone and scrolled down to the second number on speed dial; the first being his superiors from 'work'.

"Hello?"

Jake visibly relaxed and allowed a sigh of relief to escape his lips. "Oh, thank God. Listen, Kyle. There's been a problem. Cubs injured and-"

"Cub? What's _he_ doing with _you_? How's he injured?"

"Listen. I'll explain later. Bens here too. He says that they're both not in best terms with MI6. He needed me to preform surgery-"

He was cut off by the phone being snatched from his hand and thrown across the hardwood floor.

Before any words of complaint or innocence could come out of his mouth, a needle was plunged into his neck, rendering Jake unconscious.

Ben sighed for the third time that night. Now, he was legally responsible for two kidnappings. Fantastic. So far, his mission was going nothing to plan. His target was mortally injured and he had intercepted an officer of the law.

He was in big trouble.

Oh, the things he did for his job.

* * *

Ten minutes later, Ben couldn't help but think that if someone saw him, they would definitely get him a ticket. He had knocked-out a twenty six year old soldier and handcuffed him to the passenger seat of his car, and had a mortally injured, unconscious teenager tied in the back.

Bens ears were quite numb after the amount of yelling Jake was getting done.

"You fucking bastard! Unethical son-of-a bitch!"

The Liverpudlian tried his best to ignore the screaming medic as he faced the front with a blank face.

A small groan from the back of the car cut Jake off.

Bens cool, blue eyes met Alex's brown, angry ones inside the windshield mirror. "Feeling okay?"

Alex was about to answer that '_he just got kidnapped and shot and that he was feeling just peachy'_ when Snake interrupted him. "Don't talk to this fucking excuse for a fucking bastard."

Alex wiped his grainy and sleep muddled eyes with the back of his hand. "Snake? What the hell? Where'd you come from?"

Ben chuckled as Snake sent a death glare towards his former friend.

"Our wonderful friend here decided to kidnap the both of us."

Ben sent an annoyed look towards Jake. "For Christ's sake! I already told you why!"

Ben pushed down on the gas pedal and the car sped through the street light seconds before it turned red.

Alex muffled a pained moan and Snake clutched desperately at the passenger seat.

"The yellow light means slow down, not speed up!"

Ben ignored his friend and looked at the boy through the windshield mirror. "You okay?"

Alex just answered by closing his eyes and groaning pitifully. Every turbulence they encountered painfully jarred his injuries. "Do you have to... drive over every... bump... you see?"

Snake turned to see if the passenger in the backseat was okay, and just in time to see him gratefully give into unconsciousness.

Ignoring his bubbling anger, he turned to his friend. "You need to take him to a hospital."

Ben turned to look at Jake, and the turned his attention back on the road. "We both know I can't do that."

Silence, and then:

"You're not MI6, are you?"

Ben didn't answer.

There was another beat of silence. Ben opened his mouth to speak but was cut off yet again,

"Fuck you."

Ben turned back towards the road, a bitter smile carved into his handsome features.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

**Rage of Fire**

**By Half an Inch**

* * *

Snakes voice grew hoarse after an hour and Alex had fallen asleep, leaving Ben to the mercy of silence. It was a welcome change compared to what he had been through the past seventy-five minutes.

"I still can't believe... We trusted you, you know?" Snake whispered suddenly, breaking his train of thought, "Why would you do something like this? What do they have that we didn't? What did you get from all this?"

Ben didn't answer at first, the only sign that he was listening being the tightening of his hands around the steering wheel. Then, "Freedom. I have freedom."

The Scottish man opened his mouth to say something but Ben pulled to the left sharply. Snake cursed as his head hit the window.

"Bastard," he muttered, rubbing his head ruefully. "Learn how to drive."

It was silent from then on. Snake had fallen asleep somehow. Alex was still unconscious when he pulled over at a farm on the side of the road. Ben unbuckled himself and opened the glove box, taking out a syringe.

He got out of the car and went over to his ex-comrades side of the door. Snake woke up when he felt the hand over his mouth but stopped struggling when the needle was plunged into his neck. Ben sighed and unlocked the handcuff, pulling the man out of the car and propping him against a tree.

"Sorry, mate," Ben muttered, rearranging his friend to make him comfortable. "I just can't be bothered with hauling your skinny arse halfway across the country. I'm in enough trouble as it is."

And with that, Ben left.

* * *

Alex woke in extreme pain, which really shouldn't have surprised him but did all the same. He didn't know where he was. He was sitting on an ornate chair, in an excessively decorated office, in an unknown place. His hands were tied down to the armrest making him immobile.

He had to get out of here. The Brit looked around, scanning the room for escape exits. Deep down, he knew that even if he could leave the room, it would be extremely difficult with his injury, but refused to give up.

As if on cue, another wave of pain shot down his chest, causing him to double up in agony. Alex grit his teeth, cursing in his mind.

Somewhere behind him, out of his line of vision, he heard a door being opened and heavy footsteps. A hand lightly brushed against his hair, pushing his bangs out of his face. Alex turned his head away, and the appendage pulled away.

The man behind him chuckled, strode farther into the room and slid down elegantly into a chair behind the desk. The teen sucked in a sharp breath when he recognized the man in front of him.

Despite this, he recovered quickly, smiling at the man roguishly. "Zeljan Kurst, right? I've heard much about you."

Surprisingly, Kurst smiled back at him sardonically. "That is correct, Mr. Rider. All good things I hope?"

"Absolutely."

The smile vanished and the man was suddenly in front of him, fingers tangled in his hair and pulling back until his eyes were level with Alex's. "I think," he hissed in the boys ear, breath hot and acrid, "that you should not lie to me here. It will result in the least amount of suffering for you."

Alex twisted his lips into a cruel smile. "Well then, looks like I'm in for a bumpy ride."

The man narrowed his eyes but didn't reply, studying Alex with a suspicious gaze.

"You might be wondering why you are here," Kurst began after a while. When Alex opened his mouth to say that 'no, he was not wondering', the man placed his hand against Alex's chest, lightly ghosting over his wound.

Even that caused excruciating pain.

Kurst lazily raised an eyebrow, as if mocking him, and then continued. "I am sure you have heard this speech many times before so I will not waste our time. I will not underestimate you, Alex Rider, like so many before me have."

"Look. I'm flattered and all but-" he was cut off when the man pushed his finger down, nails biting into his wound.

Alex groaned, overcome by the wave of agony that accompanied. Kurst finally pulled back but the pain only lessened slightly to a throb. "I was thinking that we could play a game..."


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

**Rage of Fire**

**By Half an Inch**

**Dedicated to Bookzilla. (I hope you're happy... Sadist)**

* * *

Alex glared up at Kurst. "I'm not interested," he ground out through clenched teeth. The man barked out a laugh, eyes glinting dangerously. "Well, it is a good thing that I was not asking, then. You will take up my deal or I will kill all the people you care about one by one, until you do."

Alex snorted, "I'm afraid you won't be finding any help there. That list is non existent."

Kurst looked a bit taken aback but recovered quickly, "That it might it be, but you are forgetting about all those innocent people, oblivious to the fact that they could blown to smithereens with the push of a button. Hmm? Are you willing to sacrifice all those lives?"

Alex huffed, trying not to show his panic. "It's cute how you actually thought I would care." Kurst smiled, leaning so close to him that Alex could see the brown flecks in his eyes. "But don't you? Why don't we experiment?"

The blonde studied Kurst for any signs of deception. His search was futile.

"You're bluffing," he stated.

The man sighed, and said, as if explaining something to a little child, "Let's find out, shall we?"

Alex watched as he pulled out a small device, dread filling his stomach. "Even the slightest amount of pressure can cause all of England to be blown off the map. Do you know how many people live in Britain? I imagine that's a big number. Just imagine... All that blood on your hands." Kurst ghosted his hand over the device. Alex watched as he brought down his hand, fully intent on killing thousands of people.

"Stop!" Alex finally yelled when he noticed that the man wasn't bluffing. "I'll- I'll play your game! Bloody hell, if you wanted a playmate all you had to do was ask."

The mans mouth upturned into a razor sharp parody of a smile. "Brilliant. Let's play."

* * *

Snake groaned as he came around. He was dazed for a second, disorientated and confused as to where he was. The cold was seeping into his clothes, the sound of birds chirping throwing him off. Where was he?

Suddenly, everything came rushing back to him. The operative shot to his feet, swaying slightly. Where was Alex? Better question yet, where was Ben?

Not here, obviously. He had to let someone know; For all he knew, Alex could be dead by now. Snake looked around, taking in his surroundings for the first time.

He was in the middle of a forest, tall tress surrounding him. Pink was just beginning to seep into the dark blue sky, telling Snake that it was the early hours of dawn. It was night when he was with his former partner. The realization cause dread to pool in his stomach. He needed to contact someone and and he needed to do it soon.

He begin trekking deeper into the woods. It was only a few short minutes that the soldier found himself in the midst of a deserted road. Snake frowned. 'Well, this is going to take a while,' he thought to himself sardonically.

Trudging forward, Snake squared his shoulder firmly, head held high. He walked for almost a quarter of an hour before he saw signs of civilization. The Scottish man smiled grimly, walking forward into the small town.

There wasn't much to see, only a few shops, a small pub, and a large church. Snake walked into the pub and smiled at the bartender. "Hey, my car broke down and my phones lost its battery. Is there any chance you have one I can borrow?" He asked, laying his accent on thick. "Of course," the girl smiled at him and went out into the back room, gesturing for the operative to follow her.

She held out the receiver end of the phone and Snake took it, barely remembering to thank the barkeeper before punching in the number he had memorized by heart. "I think it's time you payed back your favor."

* * *

"And precisely what time did he call you?" The sergeant inquired, scrutinizing

Wolf through narrowed eyes.

"4:37 in the morning."

The sergeant nodded slightly and wrote something down on the file laid out in front of him. There was silence, stretching on for minutes. Wolf resisted the urge to shift in his seat uncomfortably. "Sir?"

"Yes?" The sergeant didn't look up.

Wolf cleared his throat awkwardly, "Shouldn't we do something? We could be running out of time." The sergeant sighed and rubbed his temples tiredly. "I always knew that kid was trouble." The man sighed again, more resigned this time. "Do what you must."

Wolf jumped up from his seat. "Thank you," he said solemnly, opening the door and stepping out. "Uh... Sir," he hastily added, and bounded out the door.


End file.
